


Years in the making

by GlitterCake20



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (kind of), Airforce Sam Wilson, Alternate Universe - Military, Army Bucky Barnes, BAMF Sam Wilson, Cuddling & Snuggling, Happy Ending, Holding Hands, Light Angst, M/M, Missions, Mutual Pining, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Slow Burn, Super Sniper Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-12 20:20:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16878531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterCake20/pseuds/GlitterCake20
Summary: Bucky and Sam meet as two young soldiers, but the time is never quite right to make it anything more. Until it eventually is.orSam refuses to let himself fall in love during times of war, Bucky pines endlessly for years about the prettiest bird he’s ever seen. Sam’s no better.Chinese translation here





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [【授翻】Years in the making](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17783273) by [Hotchocolateccino](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hotchocolateccino/pseuds/Hotchocolateccino)



 

Late **2010** Bucky meets Sam Wilson for the first time. It’s his last night on leave before they’re shipped out to yet another war.

 

Bucky’s sitting with his unit at their regular table, beers filled to the brim, smokes dangling from the corner of their mouths in an already cloudy, musky bar.

 

“Straight flush.” Natasha says and slams her cards down on the table winning her second round of poker. The girl causes quite the commotion and while Steve fusses ever so politely over the validity of her win, the doorbell clinks a few times.

 

In walks a group of guys from the air force base stationed nearby - they’d just arrived Bucky heard - and Steve wasn’t lying when he said they’re a bunch of badasses.

 

Steve points to one of them- tall, broad and handsome as the devil, “That’s the one they call Killmonger. Heard he’s got a list of names, a tag for each camp he’s taken down.” They all stare at the navy suit and pins scattered across his lapels as Killmonger (it’s a pretty badass name, he’s gotta admit) mingles around at the bar, basking in the attention of the people around him, his smile never quite reaching his eyes.

 

“So, what’s he doing killing on the ground if he’s a Bird huh?” Bucky snorts, gulping down beer.

 

Steve flicks a peanut at him, “Who said he was on the ground Barnes?”

 

“Stop tellin’ ghost stories, Rogers. He’s the same as us. Hella lot prettier but all the same anyway.”

 

Steve laughs, gives Nat a cheers and they down the rest of their drinks. Bucky leans back in his chair, lights up a smoke and watches the last one of them walk in. It’s one of those slow-motion moments when the man turns himself toward the inside of the bar. Bucky freezes, his beer halfway to his mouth, and takes him in.

 

He’s probably about Bucky’s height, wider, thicker, navy jacket sleeves stretching over the span of his biceps. Bucky urges his eyes to stay up and not wander further south. He’s got the smoothest golden-chocolate skin Bucky’s ever seen. The guy waves over at his air force buddies and smiles, and his smile, unlike the Killmonger’s, goes all the way to his eyes, warm and sincere. Bucky gets that same feeling you get when the sun sets over a country field, glowing peach light, and you look straight into it. You squint like a dumbass, but you don’t look away either. He’s properly beautiful. Bucky can’t look away if he tried.

 

“-out with granting orders… Barnes!” someone slaps his arm, “Barnes are you listening?” Nat says beside him, she looks around but can’t find what has captured Bucky’s attention so deftly he’s partly lost his hearing.

 

“What?” he looks at Nat and, without waiting for her answer, turns to Steve, “Hey, who’s that guy?” impatiently, he taps Steve’s arm.

 

“T’Challa. Flies the stealth ships up in-”

 

“No dumbass, we all know the fucking _Prince_!!” He hooks an arm around Steve’s neck and yanks him into his line of sight. Bucky shoves his index finger in the man’s direction. “ _That_ glorious bastard.”

 

“Oh shit!” Steve’s got that giddy look on his face, similar to a kid meeting a superhero live in action.

 

Bucky widens his eyes, “Well??”

 

“Damn! That’s Sam Wilson, Buck. _Master Sergeant_ Sam Wilson. U.S Air Force.” Steve raps it off like he spent years studying this guy.

 

Bucky gives him a blank stare, so he carries on, “The rumored EXO-7, Falcon One… come on Buck! You never heard of the guy??”

 

“Sounds like I should have since you’ve gone all schoolgirl crush on me, Rogers.”

 

Steve scoots their chairs up so they can see the group of navy suits gathered at the bar. “Youngest Master Sergeant in the air force. Back in 2005, his fleet was taken down behind the Afgan mountains, radio signal jammed, everyone thought they died on impact. But Falcon One was the only craft not detected, some of that Digie camo tech shit that Stark makes, you know? He hovered the fucking thing on the side of the mountain out of sight until the enemy retreated. Then swooped around—their guards were down—and he took out two dozen Taliban mid-air and walked out of there with 23 American soldiers at his back. Guy’s a hero.”

 

“Jesus Christ.”

 

“I know!” Says Steve, blue eyes practically glittering. Just then Sam Wilson turns as if he heard his story told and gives a sidelong glance over to Bucky’s table. A hot spark ignites in his gut, something Bucky hasn’t felt in a damn long time.

 

“Come on. Finish up, I’ll refill us.” Bucky’s already up, does a quick search for Nat to check if she’s up for another. As usual, she’s surrounded by idiots unworthy. Even in her combat boots, cargo pants and simple tank top she’s a fucking sight for sore eyes. She’s got a smirk on her full lips that say she knows that without a doubt. Natasha nods at him, gives a little wink and their heads all snap to him with envy.

 

Bucky grins and takes it, salutes them smugly and heads over after collecting Steve’s mug.

 

“Don’t try anything Barnes!” Steve hollers after him as he aims directly for the space next to Sam.

 

He turns on his heel mid-stride, walks backward, “Have you met me, Stevie?! My second name is Try.”

 

Steve laughs at him.

 

The bar lady comes right over, smiling bright and friendly at him like all the girls do, “What can I do you for Buck?” she asks leaning over on her elbows. For a moment Bucky’s torn between staring down her cleavage or chancing a glance at Sam who is right next to him, doused in fantastic smelling cologne.

 

Bucky sets his chaotic mind straight and looks her in the eye instead. Says, “Three stouts, hun. Load up some Jägermeisters too while ya at it.” And of course, and totally on purpose he bumps into Sergeant Wilson to get his attention.

 

Sam turns to Bucky mid-laugh, just about knocks Bucky off his feet with the pure force of it. God, he’s handsome, the charmer in Bucky is slightly intimidated and not sure how to act anymore.

 

“Careful there Soldier.” Sam says, and his eyes fall to Bucky’s lips immediately. Bucky’s been told he’s got a mouth fit for an angel, (except when he opens it if you listen to Steve Rogers). But now, when Master Sergeant Wilson’s staring at him, level and fixing, he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with his smart mouth.

 

“My bad sir.” He replies, swoops his eyes down Sam’s sturdy frame unashamedly. He can’t help but lick his lips though, so when he finds his way back to Wilson’s face, he’s tracking Bucky’s tongue over his lips with rapt attention. Bucky, the shit he is, makes a show and bites down on that damn lip and lets it drag loose slowly.

 

Sam clears his throat and tugs at his uniform before sticking a hand out to Bucky, “Sam Wilson, U.S Air Force.”

 

“James Barnes, U.S. Army. 25th Infantry.”

 

“Ah Tropic Lightning, huh?”

 

“Yes sir. EXO-7 I hear?” Bucky says like he has any idea what that means.

 

Sam smiles, “That’s classified Soldier.”

 

Their hands touch and keep still for a second before they shake. Seems like Sam’s studying his features, trying to commit it to memory. It makes Bucky turn red in the face, and he’s not one for being abashed whatsoever.

 

“So, you’re the sniper they braggin’ about upstate then?”

 

“I, myself, am not one for bragging sir. But yes.”

 

Sam regards him for an intense moment, “Bullshit.” he says flatly, and Bucky’s eyes shoot wide open. “Telling me a with a baby face like this _and_ killer sniper skills, you ain’t even the least bit full of yourself?”

 

“Christ…” Bucky laughs down low into his collar, shakes his head. “No, sir.”

 

Sam taps his finger to the underside of Bucky’s chin, tipping his face back up. With his voice rough and eyes that fix themselves onto Bucky, he says, “Try that again Sergeant Barnes.”

 

He swallows - what can he do? - and parts his mouth to speak with Sam watching him like that’s what he was trained to do, “I’m a damn good shot, sir.”

 

That makes Sam smile and look to the bar as the drinks arrive, breaking whatever the hell held them there, whatever Bucky is still reeling with.

 

He catches Nat’s eye from across the bar, she mouthes _‘what the fuuuck???’_ at him and he shrugs.

 

“Come on Soldier, you’re gonna show me just how good.” Sam says holding up a pack of darts.

 

 

Bucky bullseyes every single shot, dead center. He’s got the Birds as far as having lost their jackets and rolled up their sleeves in an effort to beat him, and while they’re flat out amazing shots, it’s not anywhere near his precision.

 

Sam can’t keep his eyes off Bucky, whether he’s sitting down nursing his drink or talking to one of the other airmen, his gaze stays lingering on Bucky’s every move. Bucky meets his eyes sometimes, he smiles, and Sam returns it but it feels more intense than anything he’s experienced up to now. A pull deep inside.

 

Later T’challa and Killmonger join Steve and Nat at their table with their drinks. Killmonger, as it turns out has a real fucking name, it’s Erik and while he’s intense, he’s smart and funny in that dry kind of way. T’Challa, on the other hand, is an actual fucking African prince - Bucky thought that was just a story - and he simply goes by T’Challa.

 

T’Challa has a thing for redheads, apparently, and can’t stop falling over himself for Natasha. It’s kind of cute in a stumbling puppy kind of way. He sits and watches with heart eyes as Steve’s huge arms twirl a tipsy Nat all over the tiny dance floor.

 

“They together?” Sam asks, nudging Bucky’s shoulder. He doesn’t move away from the touch though- stays pressed to Bucky’s arm, solid, grounding, dizzying.

 

“Nah. They’re…” Bucky tries to think of an accurate description of what his friends really are. It becomes more than a simple word once you’ve saved each other’s lives and shared fear the way they have.

 

“Friends?”

 

Bucky shakes his head. “Soulmates.” He says simply. “The three of us. We’ve come a long way, you know. It’s deeper than friendship, it’s sacred. Don’t know if that makes any sense.”

 

Then a harrowing expression takes Sam’s smile away, “Yeah. Yeah, it does.” He digs out his wallet and shows Bucky a picture of a man, an airman, they’re walking side by side on the field, dressed in full tactical gear. “Lost him a few years back. Shot down by an RPG.”

 

“Jesus. I’m sorry.”

 

“Had a wife back home, newlywed and all that. Life ain’t fair sometimes. But we’re here right!” Sam says after a deep breath and, in the moment, he slaps his large hand down on Bucky’s thigh and squeezes.

 

“What about you?? Got someone waiting for you to finish this madness and come home?” Bucky asks quickly, not wanting Sam to move, just… he just wants him to stay still right there and…

 

Sam’s eyes find his lips again, “I don’t…” he says, he doesn’t look away, and his full lips part. That pull is back between them, some unfathomable force dragging them close like magnets. Feels like the kind of moment you lean in on and make magic happen. So, Bucky leans into Sam tilting his head an inch, heart flipping wildly when Sam does the same.

 

It’s fleeting like a shooting star though. Burning bright and then it’s gone as fast as it came.

 

Close to Bucky’s face, almost touching, Sam says, “-because the war’s no place to lose your heart, baby face Barnes.” And then he pulls back just as Natasha gives a deep-throated laugh breaking the moment once more.

 

 

They’re shipped off to jungle lands the next day, and James Barnes is never, ever the same again.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**2012** , rolls around and Bucky still hasn’t stopped thinking about that airman with the crushing smile. Can only wonder if he lives in Sam’s mind the same way; if he says Bucky’s name too sometimes just to hear it.

The 25th has been stationed in the hot, damp forest region of Somalia for close to two years now, they sleep with distant gunfire as lullabies and spend their days clearing landmines off the coast, planted there by pirates.

It’s a beautiful country, but Bucky’s eyes are trained to the ground mostly, things get terribly hard sometimes. Bone tired most nights, he thinks how it would feel to sleep against someone’s back. How Sam’s muscled arms would feel around him, and sure, Steve and Nat are exceptional cuddlers when it comes to cold nights but he craves more now.

He craves a home, unchanging and safe and dry. Maybe one with a steady heartbeat and a million-dollar smile too. At the same time, he knows it’s one hell of a way off but he affords himself this luxury of dreaming up a home life for himself. Sometimes that’s the only thing getting him through.

It’s one of those disgustingly hot days. The sun sits like a burning bullet in the sky, reaping sweat off each one of them with an unyielding force. It is, at least, a disgustingly lazy day too. There’s a cool spot under a row of palm trees right beside the base camp and Bucky lazes against a rock in the shadow of the long leaves, ocean ahead and blue skies above- if you ignore the grey smog from the pirate vessels.

“You know,” Nat croaks as she sits down beside him in the sand, “Someone might think you’re in love when you’re sitting here smiling to yourself like this Barnes.”

He glares at her through one eye, the tip of her nose is sunburnt and her freckles now clearly visible. Still pretty as hell. “Me? Nah.” He makes space for her beside him in the shade, “A very wise man once told me it’s a bad idea to lose your heart in the middle of a war.”

“Uh huh.” Nat stretches out locking her hands over her stomach, “And does that very wise man happen to also be the one you’re pining over?”

“Pining??” He barks out a laugh, “Jesus, what’re we? Kids?”

“Grown-ups pine too Barnes. They pine hard sometimes.”

“Who've you got heart eyes for huh?” Bucky nudges Nat in the ribs.

“Ha!” She laughs, “Diversion tactics don’t work on me Bucky. You think I don’t see how you search for his face everywhere we go, hm? You think I don’t see how disappointed you are when you don’t find him in a crowd?”

Bucky lets out a long, dry sigh and lets his head drop back against the rock. He closes his eyes only to see Sam’s smile there. “That obvious, huh?”

“You’re a soldier baby boy, not covert ops.” Her mouth falls into a soft grin.

He’s quiet for a long while, feels kind of stupid. Eventually, he tells her, “Well, you know, the heart wants what it wants.”

Dreamily she quips back, “And yours wants a bird.”

Bucky lifts his head, narrowing his eyes to look at her, “Really Natasha? Really?”

She laughs at that, warmer than any summer day yet.

It’s around sunset that afternoon when the radio suddenly cracks and a voice booms through it. _“May---mayday!!---fuck----south border!!!”_  

Bucky swears it’s like ice shot straight into his veins, that feeling is easily the most terrifying emotion of all. All the soldiers at once grab for their weapons, by instinct and without knowing where the danger is. It’s so imprinted in them by now, a sniper rifle as part of your person, no one hesitates.

He storms up to the unmanned radio while several other soldiers cover their six and scan the south border. Still, nothing happens.

“Bogey. Come in. This is the 25th.”

They wait for what feels like an eternity. Then finally:

_“This is Master Sergeant Sam Wilson operating Falcon One. F-15, U.S Air Force.”_

“Holy shit…” Bucky looks at Natasha and Steve comes up behind them, takes over the air picket, “Falcon One, this is Sergeant Rogers, are you in distress?”

 _“Listen up,”_ Sam says, _“there are two hostile units on my tail. Now, this bird’s fast but she’s coming down on me, took fire to the wing. I gotta put her in the water. You gotta take out the fleet at my six or they gon’ bomb your base to shit.”_

Bucky, heart stammering wild, follows the blip on the radar with his finger, two more pop up behind them. It’s Sam up there. Sam and a smoking jet and two hostile fighters. He wraps his hands around his rifle to stop them from shaking.

“Okay. We have a sniper ready. Bring ‘em in, I’m gonna need you to cross over to us on unchartered territory first Sergeant, right now it’s sovereign, they’ll kill us on sight.”

 _“On it.”_ Sam says and then they see the jets come up on the horizon, flying low.

“I have a visual Sergeant. Nine miles off.”  Steve turns to Bucky who is already loading and adjusting the sniper, he nods, and Bucky returns it, assuring.

The highest point he can find is a hilltop not far off from where they are, just then a round of fire goes off, and his head snaps to the sky. Sam’s jet does a dangerous wobble and the back end erupts in flames.

“Fuck!! Steve!!!”  Bucky shouts but keeps running. _It’s Sam!! It’s my Sam!!!_ That’s what he wants to shout.  That is all his brain keeps repeating.

Steve grabs the radio, “Falcon One??”

_“Motherfuckers!! Got the tail! How far Sarge??”_

“Seven miles.”

Bucky’s at the top, he lays down flat, almost level with where Sam’s coming in. His aim, even when his hands shake, is impeccable, and he’s got the left one in his marker just as it fires at Sam again.

“Christ Steve!! That thing’s gonna blow! Let me shoot!”

“No!”

“Steve, I’ve got him!”  he can see the fucker’s head through the windshield.

“Four miles. Sarge, you got this,” Steve tells Sam, Bucky prays to God he’s right. He prays that bird doesn’t blow up with Sam still in it, his dumb heart needs to see Sam Wilson again, even if it’s just one more time. It’ll be enough to carry him over a few more years.

_“Sarge, she’s going down!”_

“Two miles. Barnes…”

“Ready!”

 _“Barnes!!”_ Sam shouts happily over the radio, making Bucky blush and grin, it’s really not the time, but he does.

“Fire!!!” Steve yells and Bucky’s finger pulls down, once, and the bullet sails over the stretch of ocean between him and Sam and takes out Pilot One of the hostile unit. The wing narrowly misses Sam and the fighter jet flips back and crashes into the water.

Pilot Two retaliates with fire, Bucky shifts a fraction on his elbow, and the pilot is met with a bullet to the head. The craft follows much the same fate as the first but clips Sam on the way down. Falcon One only tips to the side of the damaged wing slightly, and he hears Sam’s victory laugh over the radio and the soldiers who cheer wildly on the ground.

Falcon One pops its top off and Sam canons out of it with a parachute throwing two thumbs up at the guys on the shore, they salute in response. Bucky rolls over on the ground and lets out a long deep breath he’s been holding. Hears the crash of Sam’s jet into the water below him. “Jesus…”

They fish Sam out of the water and run an incident report through to Fury up in the mainland. Steve, decides it’s time for celebration, so with the little resources they have they get a bonfire going and Clint—the unit’s newest recruit—spears some fish for dinner. Fury begrudgingly sends over a crate of whiskey.

Bucky hasn’t seen the unit as happy as they are now, half tipsy, snacking on fried fish, someone’s even pulled out a guitar and does a pretty great round-up of Ed Sheeran.

Sam’s on a call with T’Challa, his CO, finishing up the debrief. His feet are propped up on the desk under the dingy tent, phone pinched between his cheek and shoulder. And Jesus, Bucky tries not to stare, not very hard, but he does try, and it’s nearly impossible.

Sam’s borrowed a t-shirt from Barton about four sizes too small for him, and his camo pants make it quite the sight. Bucky wants to run his hands all over it. Deep in that thought, Sam catches his eye, winks at Bucky and grins. He might just die today after all.

The sun has gone under now, stars taking the place of the sun’s rays when Sam makes his way over to where Bucky’s sitting, bottle in one hand, smoke in the other. “How much shit you in for?” he asks as Sam sits down beside him in front of the glowing bonfire.

“Minimal. Routine test run. Shit happens.” He says and smiles at Bucky.

Buck, knowing they don’t fly over this way for test runs, narrows his eyes, “And what was it, really?”

Sam looks out to the ocean and says, “Routine check-up.” He nudges Buck’s shoulder, “Heard you were out here, I know it gets pretty glum ‘round these areas.”

He came for me, thinks Bucky, cheeks responding with a pink blush, his heart with a hefty thud. “You thought seeing your mug would make me feel better, huh?”

“Well didn’t it??” Sam asks, laughing, wiggling all self-satisfied when Bucky loses the fight to keep his smile hidden.

He looks over to Sam like he did back then in the bar when they met, he looks at his eyes like melted honey in the low light, he looks at his carefully crafted beard, at his lips that arch into a small smile.

“Sir, yes sir. It did for sure. It damn well did.”

He wonders if Sam feels that same pull Bucky has felt since 2010, if there will ever be more for them after this war, which might still drag on for years, which they might not even be alive for afterward.

He knows now why it’s a bad idea to fall in love during these times.

So, when everyone around drifts off to sleep and it’s only him and Sam Wilson sitting under the night sky, he tells himself he’s not in love. When Sam’s fingers twitch against his own where they’re lying in the sand, he tells himself he’s not in love. And especially, when Sam takes his hand and slides their fingers together, he tells himself he’s not in love. (He is a terrible liar.)

They fall asleep on the beach facing one another, close, hands tangled like they’re holding on for dear life.

They wake up, however, with Bucky pressed to Sam’s back and Bucky’s arm clamped tight to Sam’s chest.

Bucky squints against the bright sun, lifts his head only to find Steve and Natasha sitting huddled together staring at the two of them. Nat lifts her cup of coffee to Bucky, a smug smile on her face. Steve just grins two rows of perfectly white teeth at him.

“Christ.” He drops his head back down and inhales against the back of Sam’s neck.

Sleepily Sam grumbles, “They’re staring, aren’t they?”

“Let ‘em stare.” Bucky says low, pulling Sam tighter against him. It feels like that home he was dreaming of before.

Sam turns in his arms until they’re face to face again and looks up at Bucky, his hand comes up to Bucky’s now stubbly jaw and rubs a circle there, “I gotta get going baby face.” He says. “Baby face Barnes…”

Bucky closes his eyes and savors the moment before it’s long gone too. “I know.”

Not much later, T’Challa hovers a helicopter over the shore and Sam gets on. Bucky, desperate for something that isn’t a goodbye, runs forward as much as he can against the propeller’s wind.

“Wilson!!!”

Sam turns, smiles, then kisses two of his fingers and points it to Bucky.

Bucky breaks out in a laugh, the other soldiers whistle and clap like idiots.

It’s not goodbye. Bucky knows it’s not.

 

* * *

 

 **2013 -** two incendiary grenades detonate within the 25th division’s base in South Korea.

Fourteen soldiers and military personnel are killed, twenty-one severely wounded, some critical.

“Yeah? This is Command?”

“Give me location on Sergeant James Barnes of the 25th,"

“Excuse me?”

“Give. Me. Barnes’. Location, General Fury. I am not asking again...”

“I do not take orders from you, Sergeant Wilson, I’d advise you-”

“ _Master Sergeant_ Wilson…. Nick, please? Please?”

“Christ, Wilson. You know the shit I’d get into for this.”

“Just a yes General, just tell me he’s breathing, just tell me he’s alive. Please?”

“He your guy?”

“... he should be.”

“Wilson… Barnes was on active leave during the attack.”

“Oh, thank fuck!”

“He’s at home in Brooklyn, New York…… Bay Bridge complex….. Apartment 107.”

“Ha, yeah okay, okay! Thank you, General. I owe you.”

If Sam happens to fly the stealth jet up to Brooklyn, just to check for himself and maybe sees James Barnes through a window, watching movies on his couch in nothing but a fluffy robe… well then no one will ever know that.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

It’s **2015** and they’re fucked. The entire 25th. They’re _deep_ in the fucking trenches, mid-war, enemies have closed in and there’s only water behind them and what feels like a hundred M2.50’s spraying unrelenting fire out front. One stops, reloads, and two more fire off.

 

The sounds are deafening, splitting, the air raw with burnt flesh, blood and gunpowder so sharp their eyes bleed tears.

 

“Fuck!!” Steve screams falling back down next to Bucky, breathless, “Call it in Cap!!! Call it in, ain’t no way around it.”

 

Nat falls down too, pretty face smudged black with soot, “Confirmed. We’re surrounded, Cap.” She shouts out. “Call it Barnes!”

 

He doesn’t feel like much of a Captain as his new title implies. He feels helpless and scared shitless.  Captains are supposed to protect and fight, and he can’t do any of those things right now.

 

Bucky cocks his gun, and he knows it’s a waste, it’s only to pacify himself. He looks over at his unit, half of them are gone – MIA, others dead – It’s him, Nat, Steve, and Clint. He considers surrendering for a brilliant second, to call it and wave that white flag. But then he considers with equal measure, if not more, the consequences of doing so. What’ll happen to them if they’re taken captive out here? What’ll happen to Nat, the only woman among them?

 

He shakes his head, “No can do Soldier.”

 

“Barnes,” She warns, her bright green eyes tired and red, the blood on her hands now drying from when she tried keeping Jones alive. “Barnes we’ll die, we’ll die if we don’t!”

 

“We’ll die if we do!” he shouts back. It’s all so loud that even with his voice raised it sounds muted. Or he’s just gone deaf.

 

Steve turns to him, “Buddy, we don’t have a choice here.” He flinches as Barton’s rifle goes off above his head. “We gotta surrender Cap.”

 

Bucky inhales, taps his Stark tech earpiece and connects to headquarters, “Come in. Come in, 25th compromised. Calling for backup.”

 

Radio silence has never been so silent. The line cracks, alive, but no one speaks and as Steve and Nat look at him, he knows why. He thought as much from the start but hope’s a bitch.

 

“Command!!! Come in!!”

 

_“We’re here Captain Barnes.”_

 

“We need reinforcements! We’re seven…. ten, maybe more men down. Black on ammo! They’ve gone fucking football bat, sir, there’s no tactic. It’s random fire. Too many to-”

 

 _“Captain Barnes….”_ General Fury’s voice comes thick and steady. The way he sounds when he dictates the condolences letters.

 

Bucky swallows and ignores the pit in his gut. “They shot the Cranks out the water sir, ground backup is gone, everything is fucking gone. We’re four men standing, black on ammo!” he repeats. Black on survival too he thinks.

 

 _“Captain Barnes,”_ he says again, louder this time. _“While crossing the river, you… You’ve entered a demilitarized zone… We can’t-”_

 

 _No no no_ , Bucky thinks. “’Fuck you can’t!!” No.

 

Natasha gets back up to take Barton’s place while he loads his very last round. Fuck, Bucky thinks watching Clint’s trembling fingers load the rifle.

 

Suddenly blood spatters on his face, like rain, and with dumb force Natasha hits the ground, spitting red from her mouth.

 

“Nat!!!” Steve screams and he’s on her, he presses down on her shoulder while dodging flying shells over his head. Bucky’s transfixed by the blood bubbling between Steve’s fingers from her body.

 

Steve yells, “Buck!! Bucky, call it!!!”

 

“Man down!!! Romanov is _down_!!” He shouts, and his voice goes thin. Why won’t they fucking help?? Nat’s going to die. His friend is dying, and he’ll have to watch. “Goddamn, do something!!!”

 

The line is still alive. _“There is nothing we can do Captain Barnes…. I’m sorry.”_ Nick truly does sound sorry, God he does. And he hates it.

 

But he gets it. The strategic part of him gets it. It is war waged on America should they send A.S.S into the zone, or, it’s four soldiers who die for their country in the trenches. Four lives for the masses. There really is no choice. The man in him, however, doesn’t want to die, but more so doesn’t want _them_ to die…

 

“Okay.” He breathes out and Steve looks at him, blue eyes now black and wild. Natasha rattle-coughs and convulses on the ground in Steve’s hands. “Okay.” Bucky tears the white bandage off his hand and starts wrapping it around a thin broken off branch.

 

“Bucky…” Steve says, and for the first time, he sees fear in his friend’s eyes. This reckless bastard who he’s seen go toe to toe with the devil, is scared. Hell, they all are.

 

“Now you listen to me Rogers, for once in your goddamn life, listen! They don’t know how many we are, how many have fallen…”

 

“No!” Barton says at the same time as Steve.

 

“It’s the only way!! Now shut up and listen. Here’s what you’re gonna do you punk.” He tries to smile at Steve, at Nat and Barton who looks properly depleted of any hope, “You’re gonna wait down here until they got me, understand. Play dead if you gotta, then retreat into the water. There’s gonna be a four-minute span while their tech comes back up.” He points to the blown up electric box and buzzing generator beside it. “That’s when you move, you fuckin’ swim Stevie, like that time my ma chased us out the river with her shoe.”

 

Steve gives a wet snort. Gunfire begins to cease above their heads, only disembodied pops of metal resound.

 

“You got me?? You two get her to safety. Head west. Get yourselves to safety, out the zone.”

 

Bucky looks at Steve a second longer, then says, “When you see him, you tell Wilson I’ll catch him on the flip side. I’ll get my bird one way or another.”

 

Steve’s eyes go wet, “I’ll tell him, Cap.” He grabs Bucky’s shoulder and squeezes so hard it might pop. “You’re a good man Buck, the best man. I’ll come back for you, I swear to God I’ll come get you.”

 

Bucky gives him a final look and says, “I’ll hold you to that, big guy.” even if he knows there probably won’t be much to come back to.

 

Nat reaches for him then, pulls him down so her bloodied lips touch his cheek. He holds her face and tells her, “You ain’t no pussy Romanov. Act like it.” and feels her smile against his skin. “Don’t die on these big lugs, huh?”

 

She nods and gurgles up blood, Steve tips her sideways to spit.

 

“You wanna stick your head out you gotta do it now Cap.” Barton says, he’s pressed flat against the trench wall and Bucky realizes the sky’s gone quiet.  The banging sound is his heart in his chest.

 

“Get ‘em out.” he tells Clint, and Clint nods.

 

This is it now. He’s done for. He’s about to walk straight into the enemy’s hands, who knows if he’ll ever see the light of day again after this, who knows what they’re going to do to him in there. Christ. But Steve and Nat and Clint are safe. Sam Wilson, somewhere out there with his perfect smile and warm eyes, is safe too. If this is how he goes well, then that’s just the way it was always meant to be.

 

Bucky’s ready, and sticks up the makeshift surrender flag. Steve, Nat, and Clint lay dead still at his feet, waiting and all he keeps thinking of in these last sparing moments, are Sam’s hands in his, Sam’s heart beating against his arm when they slept on the beach. Sam, a running daydream.

 

There’s a commotion just then, people speaking foreign, and he only makes out the word bogey. There’s a bogey, Jesus, they’re all gone now. They’re all dead, these fuckers are gonna blow them up from above.

 

He presses down on the earpiece one last time to beg, for anything, a dying man has no shame, “General please…”

 

The line cracks static then:

 

_“Baby Face Barnes! You take cover now, you hear. Heads down in three… two....”_

 

That son of a bitch!

 

It’s all too quick. Something whirs overheard, sounds like an F-15, seems just as fast, but he can’t be sure. All he knows, as gunfire erupts again, is that he’s got enough time to duck down with the others for cover.

 

He helps Steve cover Natasha and as he looks up into the blinding sun, a massive bird spreads its wings wide and rains down grenades from its steel feathers. He’s half delusional, but he’d know that face anywhere.

 

Sam fucking Wilson. That’s Sam Wilson. Goddamn. Bucky starts laughing, crying, praying all at once as he hears the bombs blow behind enemy lines, shooting them all straight to hell where they belong.

 

“Who the fuck is that??” Steve shouts out over the deafening noise, grabbing onto shrubs for purchase as the ground shakes beneath them.

 

Bucky lets his head roll back against the dirt, smiling so hard it hurts, eyes wet. “Think that might be an actual fuckin’ angel Stevie. A fucking angel.”

 

Barton cackles as two more grenades go off, “Holy Christ!!”

 

“Tell me about it!” Bucky laughs wetly.

 

Debris crackles to the ground, smoke falls low. It’s over.

 

Graciously, Sam drops down in front of them. He’s got a mechanical unit strapped to his back that retracts the large wings, _EXO-7_ , Bucky realizes. That’s what EXO-7 is, that’s _who_ it is. Bucky’s a little in awe and a lot in love too right then.

 

“You guys alright??” Sam asks. They all sit up dazed, almost like waking after a nightmare, like the moment you realize it’s over and you’re alive. Even if the air smells of hot metal, even if the fibers within you vibrate with adrenaline.

 

Clint answers since Bucky’s staring at Sam all slack-mouthed and stupid. “She ain’t gonna make it if we stay here. Took one to the chest, losing blood. You got the big bird here Wilson?”

 

“Nope, but these get the job done.” He says and nods to the jet pack. “Come on baby,” Sam says and kneels down beside Natasha, he scoops her up and she makes a pathetic sound Bucky’s never heard from her before. “Get the hell outta here. West river bank is clear, there’s a safe house forty miles off the main road. Erik will be waiting for you.”

 

Bucky feels like Sam avoids looking at him, pointedly speaks to Barton and Steve instead. It gives Bucky time to just admire him, his gorgeous face, that cocky grin, the brave and broad set of his shoulders. He realizes then that he’s missed him, in an aching and everlasting way.

 

Sam finally looks at Bucky, and when he does Bucky knows why he’s been avoiding it. It’s like stitches being pulled tight, his mouth pulls into a smile just the same. Sam shakes his head and gets up, not quite getting rid of the smile just yet, his brown eyes meeting Bucky’s for a few lingering seconds. He regards him soft and endearingly and Bucky feels safe under his gaze.

 

“Yeah Barnes.” that’s all he says and somehow Bucky gets it, that’s Sam speaking straight to the core of him. Only Bucky understands that language since it’s a language only their two hearts speak.

 

Still flat on his ass Bucky smiles, unbelieving and incredibly thankful and indebted to this guy. “Wilson.” he nods and sighs.

 

Sam winks his famous wink at him, spreads his steel wings for taking off - him and Nat - off into the sunset.

 

Bucky falls backward into the dirt and breathes in the smoky air. “I’ll marry that bird one day Steve, let me just tell you that right now.”

 

“I’ll be there.” says Steve beside him on the ground, smiling as faint misty rain starts falling on them.

 

“I’ll marry you both if we can get the fuck out of here now.” Barton groans as he hauls them back up.

 

They make it back safely down the river bank where Erik meets them with a stealth jet and a medic, he flies them back to base. In the cockpit, Bucky finds a picture of Sam flipping two birds at the camera stuck to the windshield.

 

He peels it off and keeps it for himself.

* * *

 

 **2016** – Sam Wilson stands trial for operating unauthorized, classified military equipment in a dematerialized enemy zone and receives a general discharge from the air force. General Nick Fury ensures it is handled under honorable conditions.

 

Later it’s discovered that the enemy base Sam single-handedly annihilated to save the lives of James Barnes, Natasha Romanov, Steven Rogers, and Clint Barton, at the time, was the neck of covert hostile nuclear experimentation against the U.S. He receives a medal of honor for his efforts, post duty.

 

Sam goes on to start the Riley Longford Institute for retired soldiers. It’s now 300 members strong and growing.

 

* * *

 

Late **2017,** in the midst of battle Bucky takes a 12-gauge Mossberg to the left shoulder at close range. Rips his arm nearly clean off.

 

He’s shipped back to Brooklyn where they amputate at the shoulder. James Barnes is honorably discharged from the U.S. Army with a medal for outstanding bravery.

 

* * *

 

 **2018** , Brooklyn, New York. Natasha, while on leave and fully recovered from the shot to her chest, helps Bucky settle back into his apartment and life as a one-armed civilian. He asks her to stay over a few nights, to sleep with him in his bed since he still startles awake violently during the night and it’s just easier with something tangible to hold on to beside you. She startles awake too, many times, so she agrees.

 

“Can you stop moping Barnes, for God’s sake??” She puts the tea down beside him and makes herself comfortable in the corner of the couch.

 

The tea is still piping hot when he takes a sip, he flinches but takes another, “What’s gonna happen to you guys out there, huh?”

 

She gives him a soft look then, “Same as always. We fight the fight. Get the job done.”

 

“Yeah? And who’s gonna braid your hair or kick Steve hard enough so he’ll stop snoring? Who’s gonna be your guy??”

 

“I’ll wear a ponytail and I hear Barton sleeps with steel tips.” She says simply and nudges Bucky’s leg with her ugg boot. “Hey, we’ll be fine yeah?”

 

“The fuck you will.” He scoffs and switches on the T.V.

 

They watch mindless junk for the better part of the morning, only moving for bathroom breaks or snack runs. It’s quiet and peaceful and it makes him uneasy. Back in the field long, peaceful silences were usually followed by an explosion or gunfire, or someone bleeding out and screaming.

 

This peaceful morning, however, is only interrupted by the doorbell ringing a couple of times.

 

Nat rolls her eyes and gets up, “God, you know… you just can’t stop, can you? What the hell is this now again Barnes? Fucking Captain shop-a lot!” Natasha huffs and puffs and stomps to open to door. Bucky laughs at her. “If this is more online shopping I’m fucking canceling your goddamn account _Bucky!_ Jesus, how many—Oh! Wow… Hi??”

 

“What is it?? Is it the off shoulder top? Thought that was pretty fucking hilarious huh!” Bucky yells over his shoulder, chewing on a string of candy.

 

“Baby Face Barnes with the potty mouth.”

 

Bucky whips around, and he must look about as shocked as he is because Sam Wilson ducks his head and laughs at him. He scrambles to his feet– which is considerably more of a challenge with only one arm. He realizes then he’s in really old sweats and a Superman t-shirt full of holes _and he only has one fucking arm!_

Wide eyed, Natasha excuses herself, “I… uh, have things to do at the market and… other places.” Bucky throws her wallet at her back as she bails out of the apartment. His aim is still immaculate.

 

“Hi.” Says Bucky, and a shaky exhale escapes him.

 

“How you doin’ soldier?” Sam says low, rough, and comes closer and when he stops inches from Bucky, his hand comes up to the side of Bucky’s face, curls around the back into his hair.

 

Bucky rolls his head into the touch, sighs deeply into Sam’s warm palm, “Ready to lose my heart now Sergeant.” He says and tilts his chin up to Sam.

 

“Yeah, it’s about damn time.”

 

He sees Sam smile before he closes his eyes and allows Sam to pull him in for a kiss that’s a little rough around the edges, a little hard and desperate, but still feels better than a warm shower does after a week in the trenches. Finally, fucking finally, he’s got Master Sergeant Sam Wilson’s lips on his own and two strong arms wrapped around his body.

 

The same body that walks him back to the couch and falls down on top of him. Sam's warm mouth in his neck is grounding and silky and warm, his hands coming up to Bucky’s sides to explore what they had missed.

 

Sam tells him that much too, “I missed you Barnes.” he says, “I missed you and I never even had you.”

 

“You have me now though.” Bucky arches and curls into Sam's rough hands, his single arm caressing over Sam's back then his ass then up again. _And I have my bird_ , is what he doesn't say out loud.

 

Sam tugs his hair to the side just so, “Yeah.” he breathes into the skin of Bucky’s throat then nips it softly between his teeth. “Yeah I do.” and he smiles.

 

When Sam brings his eyes back up, Bucky kisses him and smiles against Sam’s mouth and Sam squeezes him tight, arms around his back. Within the embrace sits almost eight years of want, now finally satiated. Bucky thinks this is where they were always meant to end up. This exact time and place. Never a minute earlier although their hearts ached for it.

 

They’re home now, after years in the making.

 


End file.
